And had a four month old boy
He needed my bones
To pull tears from his gums
So I gave them
We paced a halfmoon squawking at jays
When the collie walkers crowded
Round, the smell from the sling was curdling
Shhhhhhhh. Down in the streets
Farmers spear wheat from the buildings
A girl with half her hair so slenderly passed
I followed
Under two metal pitchforks and a yellow wedge
Of neon, curly edged like lettuce
Inside a dark he in denim and tie became she
Offering trays of brown onions
After the boy was gone my shoulders still pulled
Away from the aches
No longer the tied-on child, now
Folded bones pecked the shell of my traps
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